Boots in the Oven

Rainy Florence with Nana

So, Internet's on the fritz.  Again.  We're back at the bar with the free internet, sitting with potato chips and wine.  This means NO TIME.  So, fast post!

I went to the airport to get Nana on April 3.  She didn't get off the plane I was expecting her to.  Luckily, a nice woman adopted me and took me to the Air France counter, where I learned Nana would be coming in three hours.  So I prepared to wait.

And the power went out. 

Several times.  By the time Nana arrived, sans luggage, it seemed like they had the power figured out.  I got Nana home and we fed her lasagna.

Husbear says this is a gross picture.  I don't agree.

The next day dawned rainy.

See?

We looked around and got rained on some more.

We were thinking "museum", but we didn't know which one - see, the lines for the Uffizi and the Accademia have been so long, that we went and bought tickets for later in the week, and we didn't want to buy more.

So we looked at the Duomo.

I was excited to see that the copies of Ghiberti's doors had finally been uncovered, on the Baptistery.  They've been under wraps since we got here!  My Old Testament knowledge came in handy, but I wasn't able to figure out what all the scenes were.  Beautiful to look at, though!

We went into the Duomo and looked around a bit, and then Nana wanted to see the remains of the church that was replaced by the Duomo.  They're right underneath, in a small museum that's usually totally empty.  The signage is horrible, so it's hard to tell what you're looking at, but there are little maps talking about the remaining pavement.  Some of it's pre-Roman, though the part in this picture was probably the original mosaic floor of Santa Reparata.  We think.

Here's some spurs they found under the church.  Still with little bits of fabric remaining!

There were lots of tombstones around.  Dates were hard to come by, though we did find a couple that were from the mid 1100s.

Having wandered the full underground area, we left the Duomo and went around to the back.  That's where you can find the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, the museum that holds all of the church's original artwork.  It's really interesting, and usually there's nobody there.

It has one of Michelangelo's last sculptures, a Pieta' that was supposed to decorate his tomb.  That's a self-portrait as Nicodemus.

The museum also contains an extravagantly spooky Donatello.  It's Mary Magdalene, clothed in her hair.  Cloaked in crazy, I think.

Though I have to say my favorite things there were in the room of panels.  Who they're by escapes me at the moment, and since I'm running low on time I'll just have to make my apologies... but they run through a history of Man, starting with the Old Testament and ending with allegories of the Renaissance creation of sculpture, architecture, et cetera. 

Here's Gd creating woman from man's rib.  Nana didn't see the woman right away, and turning to me said "but Eve has a penis!"  Then she saw what she was missing...

My personal favorite was this one, the creation of wine.  Or perhaps the creation of overindulgence?

(Correction - thanks, Tom!  This is actually drunk Noah exposing himself, a story taken straight out of Genesis.  Oh, that crazy dog.  Look for another fresco of naked Noah exposing himself in San Gimignano, if the pictures we took in the church came out OK.)

Creepiest artifact?  Brunelleschi's death mask.  He designed the Duomo's dome, so his death mask shares room with a bunch of old tools.  Dignified, I suppose?

The museum is proudest of the original panels Ghiberti created for the Baptistry.  There are eight of them on display right now - they rotate in and out of the museum, since they're in almost constant restoration.  Apparently, there are caustic compounds between the bronze plating and the wood that's backing the scenes.  I imagine this is a sticky problem.

After all this art, it was time for gelato!  So, we went to Grom - just a block or so away.  Their April flavor is white chocolate, by the way.  Nana got dark chocolate and pistacchio.  And liked them - a lot.

Dinner was good - a solid place called Pane e Vino near our house, on Via dell'Agnolo.  It's cheap and dependable.  Nana got to have a really good Tuscan vegetable soup that made her very happy.

And then we went by Santa Croce again on the way home.  Oh well, you have to walk home some way, right?

Day One.  Mama Bear arrives Thursday, and pending Interet, I hope to have wrestled this dang blog up to date!  Look for more posts.  Hopefully.  Pray to the Internet gods for us!

Seder in Florence

During the couple of days we had between guests at the beginning of April, Passover hit!

A seder was thus definitely in order.  For those of you who don't know what a seder is, it's the traditional Jewish meal served during the holiday of Passover.  Every family has its own rituals, but basically the meal is preceded by a retelling of the escape from Egypt led by Moses.  With lots of singing. And drinking.

It takes a good bit of preparation to put together the Seder meal.  There's a traditional plate that's used, which has to have certain ritual objects represented.  We didn't have a true Seder plate, which is marked with what goes where.  Oh well - we did have a pretty china plate!

What you see on there is a cup of salt water (to represent the tears of the slaves), a roasted egg (represents sacrifice and Spring), Italian parsley (bitter, like the bitterness of slavery - you dip in the salt water to eat), a roasted lamb shankbone (also represents sacrifice), haroset, and prepared horseradish, since we couldn't find fresh.

The haroset, on the bottom, looks like the mortar the Jews used while they were slaves.  I'm the one who makes it around here.  Here's the ingredients for this year's incarnation:

And then you chop and throw everything together.  It's pretty simple, and gets better as the days go by.  Of course, after a while it starts to ferment, but then hey, it's party time!  There are lots of different ways to make haroset, depending on where your Jewish ancestors hailed from.  My family always uses Eastern European variations.  (I may have to try one of these out next year.)

The haroset gets put on a piece of matzah spread with horseradish to make my favorite Passover treat, the Hillel Sandwich.

Husbear went out the day Passover started to pick up some matzah, the traditional unleavened bread - an absolute must, since Jews can't eat regular leavened bread during the 8 days of Passover.  Pickings were slim.  He ended up with a kilo of matzah.  I'm still working my way through it.

Husbear spent a good bit of time before our friend Anna arrived preparing things for the meal.  I'm going to let him tell you what he did to this poor little lamb leg, still complete with its tuft of fur.

Ooh! Weee! I gets to writes. I'm on the internets and stuff! (Normally Mme. Pants beats me if I get near the computer.)  However, lamb is important -so with special dispensation I can lamb it up (get lamby with it?).

Basically, this is a prepartation that I stole from the awesome resturant that I've been working at.  First you trim up the overly fatty and grisly bits and then proceed to cut out the big bone in the middle.  You stuff the center with rosemary and thyme (and thick slices of pancetta if this wasn't a pork-free jewstravaganza) and then give it a healthy salt and pepperering. 

Then you tie it up real tight like (warning: do not make fun of my trussing skills.   I was in a hurry, my hands were greasy, I went blind and was overcome with vertigo. Look I'm sure there's a good reason why this thing looks like a game of Cat's Cradle played by a poorly trained intoxicated monkey but it escapes me at the moment.)

Anyway, brown the whole thing on all sides in a really, really hot pan.  When it's caramelly delicious looking, put the pan in the oven at 220°C until it's almost done.  When that is will depend on lots of things so you should probably use a thermometer.  Next, I let it cool a bit, took off the string and then put on a crust made of almonds, rasins, rosemary and anchovies.  I browned the crust all nice and crispy and then that leg was bona fide table ready.  Slice and eat.

Now back to the lady:

Our friend Anna arrived bearing side dishes and dessert and a little memory stick, on which she had downloaded several haggadot - that's the book you read during the meal to make sure you're doing everything correctly.  We set the computer up on the table and started the ceremony.  We're high-tech!

This is usually quite a meal.  You don't eat until several hours after you sit down, after the story has been told, two glasses of wine have been drunk (seriously, it says so right there in the book), and various songs have been sung and prayers have been made.  I remember when I was a child that I'd get so hungry while the parents were talking that I'd welcome the point in the seder when you eat the parsely dipped in salt water.  It tasted SO GOOD.

During Passover, you have to have matzah ball soup.  This is probably the most famous Jewish dish - dumplings made of matzah meal, served with vegtables in a chicken soup.  I've heard a cute anecdote about matzah ball soup - Marilyn Monroe was on a publicity tour in New York City, and after being served matzoh ball soup for the third meal in a row, she asked her manager, "Isn't there any other part of the matzah you can eat?"

Heh.

Husbear made a true soup (I've usually just settled for the Manishevitz mix), with actual chicken stock and ground matzah for the matzah meal.  He even added duck fat to the dumplings, in a bit of a departure from the traditional schmaltz (chicken fat.)

The perfect start to the meal.  We wolfed it down and moved almost immediately on to the lamb, now roasted perfectly and served with the veggies Anna brought.  She managed to make a delicious fennel and cauliflower roast in her little toaster oven, no easy feat.  The perfect lamb side dish, and she hadn't even known we were having lamb!

The lamb was the tenderest meat I've ever eaten.  It was pillowy, I swear - I wanted to take a nap right in the middle of it.  The flavorful crust was just awesome with the soft meat, and the vegetables couldn't have been better - fennel and cauliflower actually makes a really good combination.

The lamb gravy was delicious overkill.  Unlike so many roasted meats, this one had no need of moistening - but it sure was a tasty sauce.

One of the refrains from the Seder is "It would have been enough," or Dayenu, in Hebrew.  It's part of a song that thanks G-d for delivering the Jews from slavery, bringing them through the desert, feeding them, giving them the land of Israel, et cetera.

So, this meal would have been enough, but Anna had a delicious dessert up her sleeve.  (She's studying baking and pastry at Apicius and LOVES making desserts.)

A white chocolate souffle with whipped cream - and matzo brittle!

This was Husbear's first time trying matzo brittle, matzo covered in caramel and chocolate - and I'm pretty sure he liked it.  A lot.

Fully sated, we pushed ourselves back from the table and sang a couple more Passover songs.  Another Seder done.

The traditional line to end the Seder is "Next Year in Jerusalem."  But for the two of us, who knows?

Buona Pasqua! E Anche, Tanti Auguri a GQ!

To those of you who celebrate it (including, I've heard, something in the neighborhood of 97 percent of Italians), a Happy Easter!  Buona Pasqua to the Italians!

And a Happy Birthday to Husbear's dad GQ.  Tanti Auguri, many best wishes, and we are glad we caught your busy self on the phone earlier!

So, you know what Nana, Husbear, and I did today for Easter?  We watched the Florentines blow up a 250 year old cart!

We arrived in Piazza del Duomo at 10:40 this morning for the Scoppio del Carro, or Explosion of the Cart, which was supposed to take place at 11.  The whole area was already completely packed with spectators and the large cart had already been pulled into place by oxen.  Positioning ourselves in the crowd took a little work, but we eventually got to a place where we could see... a little bit.  At least we could see the flags thrown by the standard bearers when they were at the top of their arc.

Just after 11, a small rocket shaped like a dove flew from the Duomo and ignited the cleansing fire of the cart.  (Seriously.  The tradition dates back to the Crusades and has to do with the cleansing fire of Christendom being brought to the heathens during the First Crusade in 1096.  The tradition has been carried on since 1102!)  The same cart has been in use since the 18th century, loaded down every year with fireworks.

Lucky Husbear's got those long arms - it was the only way we were able to get any pictures of what was actually happening!  All around us, children were on shoulders and people lifted cameras high into the air to hopefully capture the happenings.

We couldn't believe just how many fireworks had been loaded onto this cart.  Some flew high into the air above us, sparking against the thick clouds of smoke, while others were on frames attached to the cart itself and swirled around and around.

Soot settled slowly on our upturned faces and the air soon became totally full of smoke.  It was a terrific spectacle - but if we come again, we will be sure to arrive a little earlier!

The final shebang blew open a flag on top of the cart - I think three flags were supposed to unfurl, but ony one did.  We worked our way upstream against the people leaving to see if there was anything to see up front.

Men in costumes milled around, and carters hauled small carts full of olive branches that they distributed to the crowd.

We stuck around for just a few minutes, until we were certain the spectacle was over.

However, lest you think that Florentine Easter is all about only the fireworks and the explosions and the smoke and flame, let me remind you that we are in Italy and so... FOOD!

Here's a piglet in his Easter finery.  Lambs have been all over the place, too, hung whole but skinned with little tufts of fur above their cute little hooves.

We spotted this fun-looking bread in the bakery on our corner late last week.  Seems like the shells would make this sort of difficult to pick through, but we get shrimp shells off of shrimp in dishes, so why not?

Italians are very much into Easter eggs.  Some of the eggs we saw were HUGE, and I've read that you can find any manner of surprise in them, up to and including car keys and engagement rings.  In that light, I guess this 250 euro specimen isn't all that shocking.  Wait.  YES IT IS.

This was in one of our favorite stores to browse, Alessi, just a block south of the Duomo.  A couple of weeks ago, we walked into the store to find they had been taken over by Easter spirit.

It's a pretty store to wander normally, but this time we had to move more quickly than usual lest I be tempted by the beautiful chocolates and candies on display.

Though we were easily able to leave behind the enormous eggs.  Out of our price range.

Of course, it wasn't just the regular shops that were full of easter candies.  The caffes and pasticceria had also really outdone themselves.  View the windows of Gilli, one of the grand caffes on Piazza della Repubblica:

Beautifully colored chocolate eggs and trees.

And little chocolate dogs, for the nontraditional:

But it was the chocolatiers that had really outdone themselves.  The displays at Vestri, on Borgo degli Albizi, are always nice for a look - but the last couple of weeks they've been just a riot of spring color.

Of course, it's always more fun when you can actually SEE the chocolate, which Andrea Bianchini's shop on Via de Macci was more than happy to accommodate.

(He had the most darling ghost egg, but it was missing from the window when we went to take photos!)

As always, wish you were here!  We could look shiftily at chocolate eggs together.  This one was just outside of Siena and wishes a happy Easter to all the customers frequenting the bar.

Next, back to the regularly scheduled program.  Wine country with J/K, and then on to Florence, and Siena with Nana!

J/K - in Florence!

(Disclaimer - though it is April Fool's Day, the following actually took place.  And yes, the two of them are now in Paris.)

I blink, and another week goes by!  This was a particularly busy week, with Husbear's aunt and uncle coming through town.  This occasioned a trip to the Cinque Terre, as well as the rental of a Smart ForFour and a whirlwind tour of a corner of Tuscan wine country.

Jodi and Keef (hee) arrived last weekend and threw themselves immediately into the Florentine happenings.  Which means that stupid pants were seen.

Along with amazing sidewalk chalk art on Via Calimala.

It just so happened that they were here for the Florentine New Year, about which we had completely forgotten until we were just about run over by a parade.

Historically, Florence celebrated March 25th as the New Year.  Dante believed it was the date of the creation of the world, and what Dante says goes around these parts.  And it was supposed to be the date of the Annunciation (Mary's being told she would bear Jesus) - being, as it is, 9 months before Christmas.  Happy Conception Day, Jesus!

All kidding aside, it was a very nice parade, with people in beautiful costumes.  I was jus' jellus.

We also got to see some pretty amazing Easter candy.  There was a giant chocolate egg in one of the stores near the Duomo selling for 250 euro!  These were more our speed.  Aren't they adorable?

Of course, the two of them visited the Uffizi and the Accademia, where they were the only people around David for several minutes.  Buying tickets in advance = good thing!

I accompanied them to the Science Museum, where we paid our respects to Galileo's finger.  Don't ask why, just admire the finger.

They were perhaps more interested in the Mercato Centrale, where, somehow, they ran into people they know from their 25,000 person hometown.  Crazy, no?  That's the kind of thing you always think will happen on vacation, but never really does. 

We also ran into a cow udder, but that was less... portentious?  You may remember that Husbear actually got to cook this early on in the school year.  At the time, he said it tasted sort of like cat food smells. 

Sadly, he passed it over this time in favor of...

BEEF BEEF BEEF.  The first time we saw a macelleria (that's butcher shop, in English) we knew we had to get Keef to one.  He's always been a meat freak.

And we did.  This is the macellaio, or butcher, gesturing at an enormous side of beef.  You'll see more of that giant steak in a minute.

We also went to take a look at the second floor, with its vegetable bounty.  It's looking completely different than when we arrived.  In August, porcini mushrooms jostled with tomatoes and figs.  Now, it's all asparagus, fresh fava beans, zucchini flowers, peas... Spring is here!

Of course, with a captive and salivating audience at home, Husbear totally outdid himself for several meals of deliciousness.  It's all about the eating at our house!

One night, he made duck breasts in a red currant sauce (my request) with fresh fava beans and a crazy tasty cauliflower puree.

As wonderful as this was (seriously, duck with tart sauce is heaven), he really went all out on steak night.

We started off with a combination that sounds more than a little crazy, but somehow works - gorgonzola with white chocolate, olives, and honey.  With thinly sliced bread.  This was much more delicious than it sounds the first time you hear it, and I would recommend everyone giving it a try.  Small servings, though - those are some strong flavors!

We then moved on to some clams Husbear picked up at the market.  He steamed them with seafood stock, white wine, garlic, and tomatoes, and came up with clams that made us want to lick the bowl.  That would have been enough, but then he topped them with what we're choosing to call duck cracklings.  I can't even tell you...

I'll just allow a picture to show you how we all felt about this dish.

This made Husbear especially happy, since these guys really know their seafood!

And then, the steak... don't worry, he did cook it.

These dainty little wild asparagus spears also made an appearance - I've never had wild asparagus, and it was yummy.

These two ingredients, along with an insanely good celeriac caramelized in duck fat and a half of a baked apple per person, made for a meal I don't think any of us will be forgetting anytime soon.  Where did I find this guy, again?  (A story for another time.  Short answer: College.)

As if this hadn't been a feast fit for, well, the oligarchy (at the very least), a tiramisu came out of nowhere too.  Husbear's finally perfected the recipe - he figured he has to come home from Italian culinary school able to prepare a good tiramisu!

We had some really good meals out, too, here in Florence.  (I make no apologies for the sheer volume of food pictures in this post... I am in Italy!)

Ristorante la Maremma is fast becoming one of our favorites with their always-solid food.  A Tuscan appetizer of sliced cured meats started us off Tuscannily.

This sformato di verdure, or veggie flan, was really nice - lots of pureed cauliflower.  Good tomato sauce, too!

Gnocchi with gorgonzola and walnuts always goes down a treat, as the Brits would say.  I have yet to find a pasta shape that makes me as happy as gnocchi - but really, when has a potato dumpling ever been unwelcome?

The best of the secondi was the cinghiale with polenta, stewed wild boar served with not nearly enough little fried polenta cakes.  It was Jodi and Keef's first wild boar experience, and though the meat was not nearly as gamey as they were expecting (hoping?) they still enjoyed the dish.

Spot the Husbear, win a Porsche!  (Fine print to follow.)

Maremma does a better job with their desserts than any other Tuscan restaurant we've visited.  Mama Bear still talks about the tiramisu with fruit that she ate there in November 2005.  (Not blogged.  40,000 pictures on this computer... please cut me some slack!)

Their panna cotta with frutti di bosco (wild berries) was nice and tart and creamy and happy.  Husbear thought they might have relied a bit too much on gelatin to keep the cooked cream together, but I didn't notice any problems of this sort.

Husbear, along with the rest of us, loved this zabaglione with a bruleed top.  We dug our spoons down through the crackly wine mousse and discovered a semifreddo down in the bottom of the cup - a frozen mousse.  The cold and hot and sharp was so much fun to eat.

We also showed them a good time at a tavola calda, or buffet-style restaurant, but since this was the lunch after the steak extravaganza it was perhaps a little overkill.  Fettucine with truffle sauce, rigatoni with meat ragu, pappa al pomodoro (Tuscan tomato/bread soup) and lasagna... tasty, but heavy!  I suppose this is to be expected in Tuscany.

We also went to il Pizzaiuolo, which has maybe the best Neapolitan-style pizza in town, for their brusque and slow service as well as their tasty pizzas.  My Italian failed me when I tried to ask if the large beer on their menu was a pitcher, and we were served a giant mug with four teeny glasses.

Ha.  Novelty beer.  (Sort of like the German liter, but I think this may have been bigger.  And more difficult to pour into small glasses.)

We also got their antipasta of burrata cheese with sides, which this time included panzerotti (fried bread pockets) and arancini, rice balls - probably the best we've tried outside of Sicily.

Their pizzas this time were better than when we went with Auntie.  Less soupy.  We got a salsiccia and friarelli, greens n' sausage pizza, that Husbear described as tasting like something straight out of the deep South.

We also ordered a pizza Napolitana, or Neapolitan pizza, with capers and anchovies... but I don't want to cause further scarring to poor Jodi and Keith by showing a photo of that anchovy-licious monstrosity, so how about a quick shot of their pizza Margherita instead?

Then they overcharged us for the beers and laughed when we tried to correct the bill.  Yes, it was only three euros.  No, we probably won't be back.  Ooooh, still mad!  Though they are packed almost every night and probably won't miss our business, what with their good pizza and all.

That's it for Jodi and Keef in Florence.  I do believe that their pictures are probably less food-heavy, but we all have our priorities, right?  Soon to come, some pretty shots of the Cinque Terre, as well as Montalcino and Montepulciano.

Since the last post went up, we've also had a couple of birthdays... a happy birthday to Mama Bear, who will be visiting us in, wow, only three weeks or so!

Also, happy 28th birthday, Husbear.  I love you always. 

girlie

Ristorante la Maremma, via Giuseppe Verdi 16/r, 055.244615 (right by Piazza Santa Croce)

il Pizzaiuolo, Via de' Macci 113 r, 055 241171.

Benvenuti and Arrivederci to Robert and Margaux

Apologies for the lack of posts last week.  We had company!  And then we went to Parma!  (More on that later.) And then I got sick! (That's all you'll hear about that.)

Robert and Margaux arrived last Sunday from Rome, a little jet-lagged and a little under the weather, but all in all ready to paaaa-rteee, Florence Style!

A little drizzle didn't stop us - we took a bit of a passeggiata around the center of town, showing off the Duomo, the Piazza della Signoria, and of course the Ponte Vecchio.

As always, it was so wonderful for us to show people around the city.  I'm definitely starting to feel a little pride of ownership, here, even though we've only lived here about 6 months. 

We took them to see the Fontana del Porcellino, or the fountain of the little porker.  This is sort of like Florence's Trevi Fountain, in that people who let a coin drop from the hog's mouth through the grate at his feet will come back to Florence.  The similarities end there, of course.

I can't imagine how this happened, but somehow both Robert and Margaux... missed the grate!(Guess that's the last Florence will see of these jerks.  Geez. -L.Pants)

Because of our classes and everything, we didn't get to spend as much time with them as we would have liked - though they had a good time hitting the Accademia and the Uffizi and even taking a day trip to Siena.  We took a long walk one day up past San Minato al Monte, a beautiful Romanesque church Husbear and I hadn't yet had the chance to visit.

We went out to a couple of great places for dinner - they liked Antica Porta, which is a definite point in their favor.  Though they did agree with us that if you call a menu item "Zuppa di Fragole" (Strawberry Soup) that serving something much more akin to strawberry shortcake was a little odd.

Husbear was able to cook one night, what with his classes and internship, so he and Robert and Margaux went to the Mercato Centrale to pick up ingredients (and to have a delicious lunch at Mario's).  Having seen Husbear's Bistecca post, they had a request...

Awww, yeahhhh.

But first, an antipasta platter with bresaola di cavallo (that's horse sausage) (Actually it's just plain horse, no sausage about it. -L. Pants) prosciutto, lardo di colonnata, olives, and a delicious, only-available-this-time-of-year sheep's-milk cheese called Marzolino.

And then, the steak... with cauliflower puree and sauteed chicory.

It was so great to see those guys, who are by now hopefully safe and sound back in New Orleans.  We'll be seeing you in just a couple of months!

And, to leave you with a little taste of Florence in your mouths, here's one last glass of Vin Santo with yummy almondy cantuccini.

girlie

We got to go into the Vasari Corridor!

This news is probably only exciting if you're a big dork.  Like me!

So first, what is this "Vasari Corridor?"

Well, let's say you're a Medici, a member of the ruling family in Florence during the mid 1500s.  You've just moved, from the Palazzo della Signoria (now called the Palazzo Vecchio, or "old palace") across the river to the Palazzo Pitti.  But your offices are still in the Uffizi, back next door to where you used to live.

You certainly wouldn't want to actually have to, say, hobnob with the people on your way to and from work every day, would you?

So, you build a big tunnel on the second story of all of the buildings between the Uffizi and the Palazzo Pitti.  Here's what a portion of this corridor looks like today, from the window on the third floor of the Uffizi. (The thing with the red tile roof that zigzags across the bridge.)

The full length of the tunnel is almost 2 kilometers, and amazingly only took 5 months for Vasari to complete.  (Giorgio Vasari's name may sound familiar to you - he wrote a history of art in the late 1500s that is used even today to help identify lesser-known artists.)  The reason it could be completed so quickly is that it was mostly built on top of and through existing buildings - the only part that had to be built from the ground up is the first section, which you see above, between the Uffizi and the Ponte Vecchio.

Normally, it's really difficult and expensive to get into the corridor.  So, when we had an opportunity through Husbear's school to have a guided tour, we jumped all over it.  (Though it did mean sharing the experience with a bunch of 19 year old FUA kids who spent most of the time yawning and talking about what bars they'd be visiting over the weekend.  Imagine, art school kids who aren't interested in art!)

The tour began with a run through some of the more famous of the Uffizi's holdings, but since we'd been multiple times before, I was really hoping to curtail this section.  When we finally were led through a small, unmarked door off of a hallway on the third floor of the museum, an additional 10-15 people tried to follow us (Hey!  Where are THEY going?) but were rebuffed by the guides.

Immediately on entering, you're faced with several masterpieces that were irreparably ruined by the Mafia car bomb that went off outside the Uffizi in May 1993, killing 5 people.  (We were cautioned against taking any pictures, so apologies for the quality of these.)  Then, we were led into the tunnel itself.

The first section of the corridor, leading from the Uffizi to the Ponte Vecchio, is lined with 16th and 17th century art, mostly by minor artists.  When the Nuovo Uffizi addition is completed in five years or so, some of these paintings might be moved out into the museum. 

The natural light in the corridor used to be substantially less, limited to small portholes installed by Vasari.  However, when Hitler came to visit Mussolini in 1938, new windows were knocked into the sides of the tunnel.  (And later, the Germans blew up all the bridges save the Ponte Vecchio, thus sparing the corridor.)

The views you have from the windows and portholes are really interesting, giving you a new perspective on the bridge below.

When you reach the end of the Ponte Vecchio, there's a dogleg around a medieval tower.  When the corridor was being built, the owner of the Torre dei Mannelli refused to let Cosimo I de'Medici plow through the middle of his tower.  The citizenry of Florence held their breath, wondering what the punishment would be, but Cosimo just shrugged, said "In his home, every man is a ruler" and cantilevered the tunnel out around the side of the building.  This means you get a really nice look at the whole length of the bridge from its end.

The next part of the walkway contains a series of self-portraits, arranged chronologically.  When the corridor was completed, Vasari hung 80 self-portraits in this area, and letters were sent out requesting that famous artists of the day paint themselves and send the result over.  There are also a few that are fakes, including one of the Gaddi family (turns out that people really didn't do self-portraits in the early 14th century) and one of Leonardo da Vinci.

Now, artists petition the regents of the Uffizi to be allowed to send in their self-portraits.  Some of the paintings in there are wonderful, and all are at least good, which is why it was so disappointing to be rushed through extremely quickly.  Also, many of the most famous ones, including two self portraits by Albrecht Dürer and one by Marc Chagall (that last really disappointed me) were missing, on loan to various museums throughout the world.  At least in traveling exhibits, they'll be seen by more people than they are in this corridor!

We were gratified to be able to pick out Carlo Levi's face, though.

It was neat seeing artists play around with the structure of a self-portrait.  This Italian master was apparently known for his ability to paint flowers.

A few minutes later, we were led out of a small door (again totally unmarked) into the late afternoon sunlight.  A statue of Apollo stared at us.

We had landed in the Boboli Gardens, behind the Palazzo Pitti.  At this point, our guide told us we had two options.  She was going to leave the premises.  If we wanted to stay and enjoy the gardens, we needed to buy a ticket for 6 euros.  But... we could also just take the stairs to the right.  She wouldn't keep an eye on if we left or stayed.

We stayed.

Actually, the place where we found ourselves was singularly odd.  It was a small building, built by the architect Buontalenti (Court architect to the Medici after Vasari.  He also very likely invented gelato, and thus has a tasty bread pudding-like flavor named after him).  The building was built to look like a small chapel that had been overtaken by mud and ruin.

(That's the six-balled coat of arms of the Medici family over the doors.)

As we stood there gaping at it, we saw a small sign that said the grotto would be open for visitors at 4.  And hey!  It was 3:58!

At 4 on the dot, a lady with a clipboard arrived and unlocked the gates, letting in a maximum of 20 people at a time.  This was such a strange place - I've never seen anything like it!  Apparently, this was the style for a little while during the last quarter of the 16th century - buildings that looked romantically ruined.

The inside is truly weird, but sweet in that overly-romantic Renaissance way.  In the middle of the fake mud and drips is a statue of Paris and Helen of Troy created by Vincenzo de'Rossi, wherein they're sitting on an upside-down wild boar and Paris is grabbing at Helen's breast.  The corners of the front room originally held Michelangelo's Prigioni, or Prisoners, that now keep David company in the Accademia.

The first room, is the strangest.  Loosely formed statues of sheep seem to be whiling away the time, chewing on the vegetation that's grown up on the old chapel.

Shepherds look on, crooks in hand and floppy hats on head.  And then there's this lady.

We left the grotto, relinquishing our place to a couple of German tourists, and walked deeper into the gardens.  We found a pink granite obelisk, brought in from Luxor.  Brings back memories.

And then we walked up a path that turned out to be a heck of a lot steeper than it looks.  Here's me, the Palazzo Pitti behind me.

The gardens reminded us fairly strongly of Versailles, so we were half expecting a giant pond at the top of the walk, complete with paddleboat rental.  Alas, there was only a small, pretty puddle, which didn't seem to be overly stocked with fish.

Just at this point, a loud disembodied voice assaulted our ears, telling us in Italian that the park would be closing soon.  Then English.  Then French.  Ah, there's the German.  And it repeated and repeated and repeated as we walked along a new path, trying to find our way out.

Being driven crazy by the incessant announcements, I lost Husbear for a minute.  I found him taking his 12th picture of this little guy.

Together, we found this enormous head, which was duly photographed with the speaker yelling in our ear.

And then, just before leaving the gardens, the voice stopped.  And we found this ode to Bacchus, god of drink and debauchery.  (I think I remember reading that the figure is based on a Medici court dwarf, which people had back in those days.  Of course.)

He looks to me like he's about to expound further on a point he's made in a drunken debate.  "Naw, jus'... jus' lissen for a sec, see!"

Walking back over to the Ponte Vecchio, we saw the point where Vasari had to go around the medieval tower.  Really interesting, now that we know exactly what it is.

As a special bonus to people who made it through all the boring historical discussion, here's a followup to the fashion post from last week.  Ridiculous dress is certainly not limited to Americans here.

And here's the name of a jewlery shop on the Ponte Vecchio.  I can't speak for the quality of their wares, but I think this is a very good example of when a double entendre does not work in your advertising favor.

Tomorrow at 7:30 in the morning, we go to Viareggio to check out Carnevale!  And Husbear is even now working on an unspecified pie for the blogging meme "Waiter, there's something in my pie."  Dinner at 11!

The Mercatino Tedesco: serving all your tiny German market needs in Florence

In the interest of not letting the awesomeness that was the Mercatino Tedeesco slip through my lazily blogging fingers, please allow me to direct your attention to last November.

The Mercatino Tedesco di Heidelberg, which translates literally from the Italian as "small German market from Heidelberg," (Creative, no?) took over the Piazza di Santa Croce for nearly a month last November and December.  It was a great place to do some Hanukkah and Christmas shopping, with terrific crafts from Germany and elsewhere.  (Austria, mostly.)

Adorable hats and puppets for children jostle with jewelry, scarves, porcelain, statuettes, camping gear (!), soaps, and most of all a huge array of German and Austrian food stands.  (That last may not sound like a good thing, but damn is it hard to find anything besides Tuscan food or falafel around these parts.)

We went to the market nearly every day it was open, for a mug of gluhwein (glow-wine, or mulled wine - also called vin brulee), or a sausage, or for a bit of holiday shopping.

It was a beautiful place to just browse and feel in the holiday spirit, though the two weeks before Christmas things were more than a little crowded and hectic. 

The wares on sale at this booth might look familiar to cousin-megs.  (I really should have gotten a little something from this booth.  STUPID.  Yes, those are my meaty paws flapping around the lovely little necklaces.  Great angle on them.)

We did end up making a lot of food-related purchases.  For one thing, there was a terrific spice and dried herb guy who boasted things we haven't seen in months - like dill, and dill seed (which tastes just like caraway, something we've had no luck finding around here), and tarragon.  For another, we were able to buy a bunch of German sausages (most of which are even now frozen in our tiny freezer) for next to nothing near the end of the festival.  We did stay away from those dang Salzburger Mozart chocolates that practically chase you down the street all over Austria bellowing "BUY ME.  LOVE ME."

Nor did we buy a giant rope of garlic, appealing as this display was.

Perhaps the most wonderfullest thing at the Mercatino is the fact that there is a functioning carousel there.  Not just any carousel - this one is missing the fanciful horses and chariots normally festooning such edifices.  It's a BAR!  That serves lots of beer and mulled wine!  And rotates!

You're probably thinking that a rotating carousel six steps off the ground full of drunk people during the rainy season might be a lawsuit waiting to happen.  Probably it is.  One night, on arriving at the carousel for a post-dinner evening mug of gluhwein with friends, we noticed a woman sitting up against the candied and chocolate-covered fruit stand that backed up to the carousel.  She was surrounded by friends and was holding her ankle.  We settled in, and by the time the carousel made its 20-minute rotation back around to her, an ambulance was there and her ankle was being splinted.

A half-hour later or so, the bartenders were sticking these hand-made signs to the top of the staircases.  "Attend to the Stairs," indeed.

The carousel itself didn't serve any food - just drinks.  Rotating drinks.

And, well, you can't beat the view.  Even with our neck-chins in it.

During the day, you can even buy food from the surrounding food stands and eat it in the carousel.  We did this several times - it was great especially when it was raining.

(These sausages were from the stand run by guys from Trentino-Alto Adige, the part of Italy that butts up against Austria.  Good bread, boring kraut.)

As you can see, you have to buy a drink or somesuch if you're going to eat your ill-gained foods in the carousel.

Husbear to the rescue!

And if you don't want to buy the more expensive mulled wine from the carousel, you can get it from this guy and his giant kettle.  Though his mugs come sans carousel.

There are a fair number of savory food options at the Mercatino, as long as you want German food.  There are white sausages, and red sausages, and spiedini (kebobs) of pork, and stinco di maiale, which I've been told is like the pig's ankle that's deliciously roasted, and a couple of different hearty stews.  And lots of sauerkraut.  Pretzels, too.  You know, typically light stuff.  Doesn't stick with you for hours, but it works.

Sausages waiting for their buns, for your perusal:

And here's a whole piglet, roasted.  (Maialino di Latte - milk-fed piglet.)

We only ended up having a couple of pretzels, something about which I'm not overly pleased.

Here's a mouth-view of another sausage, just prior to being eaten.  And a view of the carousel during the day!  Most booths started out letting you apply your own mustard, but so many people kept squirting mustard on themselves that that task was returned to the sausage artists.

And if you're curious what's up with that stinco di maiale, here's a half order.  I thought it looked like a lot of food, but there were all sorts of people around us with full orders - double the meat!  The booth I mentioned earlier, from Trentino-Alto Adige, is the best place to get stinco.  Just wish they had better kraut.  Delicious pretzel-bit, though!

That is a seriously good bit of pork, y'all.  Crunchy skin, moist piggy meat.  Here's a food porn shot for you:

And, if you really need something a little sweet to chase all that rich and pickly, there are certainly options for you!  There are homemade cookie and candy and fruit stands, along with a place selling different types of sweet pretzels.  You can get apfelstrudel (that would be... apple strudel) at a couple of places, with vanilla cream sauce if you want.  This one was ok.  Rich, buttery, and appley, which is I suppose what one wants from a strudel?

Another fun option, which I imagine would be even more entertaining if you have children with you, is the cotton candy (zuckerwatte, zucchero filato) guy. 

No colors or flavors added here, just an enormous cloud of sticky filaments.  This put me straight back in Roos gymshoes with a penny in the side pocket, an enormous t-shirt scrunched at one side, and pleated drop-waist jeans.  Oh yeah, and a slap bracelet decorated with fireworks.  With one ponytail on the side of my head. 

Guess the year of Girlie's birth and win a picture of her with novelty-size cotton candy!

So - if you find yourself in this area in the month or so leading up to Christmas, definitely drop by Piazza Santa Croce and see if the Mercatino Tedesco is in full swing.  A good time is guaranteed, as long as you watch it on those stairs.

These are the people in my neighborhood (For Margaux)

We have two awesome people coming to visit at the end of the month, and longer ago than I'd like to admit one of them sent me an email with a fairly simple question...

"What are the cool kids wearing right now?"

Now, I could have (and probably should have) just written a list of what I see people wearing out on the streets of Florence, but then I thought - why not a photo essay?  So last weekend we took the camera on an outing to the Piazza del Duomo, where we captured tourists and Italians alike.

Of course, the coolest of the cool kids are looking like this.

But I guess we can't all be me-clones.

The cool little kids, at least on Sundays, seem to often be wearing princess costumes.  Why not?

Then there's the really cool older kids, who are wearing outfits I'd still kill for.

And if you want to be recognizable as American from across a crowded piazza, by all means bring your Uggs, sweatpants, sweatshirts, and Northface fleeces.  We also see a lot of American students out wearing their pajamas.  A lot of older Americans tend towards wearing dress pants with bright white gymshoes - I promise it is possible to find nice walking shoes that aren't manufactured by Nike!

Being in Piazza del Duomo meant that we captured a lot of Asian tourists with our lens.  They were doing some of the strangest things with their purses!

Not only was there the wearing-your-BACKpack-on-your-front look, which I've been known to sport when getting things out of my bag or on really crowded transportation (but never just when going for a stroll), there was also this purse-under-the-coat style. 

To be fair, several of our friends here have been pickpocketed - one Japanese girl in my Italian class even had her wallet taken out of her purse while she was wearing it (it was a bucket-style purse, though, not a zip-top).  Still, though, it seems like there are other safety measures you could take without looking like you have a weird saddlebag.  You know, a small under-arm purse, or carrying your purse in front of you?

Europeans have long been known as being on the forefront of fashion, and it's definitely fun to take a look at some of the crazier styles.  (Margaux, I don't know if these pictures will be helpful or not!)

Before you ask, yes, this is her hair.  And those are not the shoes I'm talking about when I say comfortable stylish shoes do exist.

This one's for Robert, because I know how he likes to pimp things out.  I hope you can see the silver studs on his shirt clearly.  Unfortunately, we didn't get a picture of the silver heelplates on his alligator boots.  He was with his wife and young child.  Isn't that the Diddyest coat you've seen in a while?

Unfortunately, the 80s appear to be coming back.  We saw a couple of women with tall, teased bangs actually wearing leather miniskirts.  More common seems to be the pointy ankleboot with leggings or a sweater dress.  I really hate these tights - I think they make her look like she has some sort of skin problem.

Speaking of shoes I can't wrap my head around, check out these muppet numbers!  They swish so satisfyingly when she walks, though.

And then there are the people who really stand out amongst the usually staid and sedate Florentines.  Husbear's getting this outfit for his birthday.

And this poor kid.  I didn't want to break his heart by reminding him that The Crow came out in 1994.  (Though it looks like the kid he's talking to might be this/close to telling him himself.)

Small ceremonial swords are also the hotness.  Jump on this trend before your friends!

One thing that I've noticed here is that the women seem to wear a lot more fur than they do in the States.  Of course, there isn't much call for fur in Texas and South Carolina, where I'd lived for 9 years before moving to Florence, so perhaps my sample is skewed?

I loved this woman's phone cord, though.

More fur for y'all.

All right.  In all seriousness, what seems to be really popular this season are really really long skinny pants, sometimes with ballet flats or high heels and sometimes tucked into boots,

or with gold or silver shiny shoes, whether you're female or male (there's a kind with springs in the back that a lot of people are wearing)

The teenagers are all wearing these skinnyskinny pants really low, too, which makes for a strange silhouette - like their butt is at mid-thigh and they have little stump legs.  Plus, the guys seem to enjoy buckling their teenyskinny pants below their actual ass, which means that we see a fair amount of underwear.

Some people just take the skinnypants thing too far.  We saw several people who had pinned their pants tightly around their ankles.

Here are some pretty typical dudes, just conversatin' on a chilly Sunday afternoon.

Almost as popular as skinnypants are formal shorts, and this time of year they're being worn with cute tights and boots.

I have serious coat and scarf envy here in Florence.  It would be pretty easy to build up a giant scarf collection, too, what with all of the street markets.

Most people here just look so... put together!  At home, I might go out with sweatpants on and my hair looking all stupid, but here it just feels wrong, somehow.  It's that Italian, and especially Florentine, preoccupation - some might say obsession - with the bella figura, cutting a suave figure with your clothing, face, and body.  A Florentine would never dream of going outside, even for a run down to the alimentari at the end of the block, in their pajama pants.  Always look put together, because it makes you more powerful.

Hope that helps...

girlie

Supercup a Firenze

I'm not really a sports fan.  The only time I'll happily go into a sports bar is during the Olympics.  However, the Superbowl is a horse of a different color.  Yes, it's a football game, but it's also become the newest and greatest American holiday.

Here in Florence, with its huge population of American students, you could even feel the Superbowl approaching.  Over the last couple of weeks, people have been standing in front of the Duomo, in Piazza della Repubblica, and over near the Mercato San Lorenzo passing out postcards emblazoned with skimpily-dressed cheerleaders, inviting expats to Superbowl parties taking place at clubs and discos all over town.

We can't watch the Superbowl at our house, lacking satellite TV.  So, we ended up at Finnegan's at 11:15 on Sunday night.  It's an Irish bar run by a Glaswegian, and one of our friends tends bar there.

There is definitely some strangeness to watching the Superbowl here.  One, we were watching on the UK's Sky Sport network... so no commercials!  Two, kickoff was at 12:15 in the morning.  Since bars here can't legally stay open all night long, this meant that Finnegan's actually put down their big metal shutters just after kickoff and posted a list of possible exit times, every half hour.   Three, though just about everyone in the place was American, there were some Italians who wanted to know just what the hell was going on.  One asked me "It's your championship tonight.  The Supercup, yes?"

Four, and perhaps best, is the fact that one of the commentators on Sky Sport was Don Johnson.  You know, because the Superbowl was in Miami and he was on Miami Vice!  Makes perfect sense.

This was the scene a little after kickoff - perhaps between the fifth and the sixth fumbles of the quarter?

Most of the people there were students at one or the other of the nearby universities.  There was a little clot of girls wearing homemade Bears jerseys who got in a bit of a spat with a group of Asians who were rooting for the Colts.  (I heard one of the girls drunkenly telling another kid that Indiana is a stupid state that doesn't even deserve to be a state because it's so stupid.  With an airtight argument like that, the other party unsurprisingly backed down.)

Watching a game with other people who are so invested was a lot of fun.  Each fumble or interception or dropped snap or sack led to yelling and cheers.  We put a couple of euro into a betting pool, but got awful numbers and didn't win.

At around 2:30 or so, some of the kids couldn't stand not being let outside to smoke and just went ahead and lit up inside.  The law here, where it's illegal to smoke in bars and restaurants,  is that the smoker is fined, not the bar.  So, that was fun.

Unbelievably, we waited out the whole game and left the bar a little after 4 AM.  The only other people out on the streets were Americans, including one very drunk kid who stumbled up to us and said "Waitaminnut, waitaminnut.  Colts won, right?"  Husbear asked him if he wanted to put any money on the outcome.

The thing about staying up until almost 5 in the morning on a Sunday is that it throws your schedule off for the whole week.  So, oops.

girlie

Buon Natale!

Tanti auguri! Buona Festa! Merry Christmas!  That ought to be about enough exclamation marks for the coming year.  So it's Christmas and all and we're firmly ex-patted in Bella Firenze (except that we're actually leaving today to go play around in Sicily and the Toe-Arch-Heel regions.)

It's strange and sad to be away from family during all of the holiday festivities, but it does make you feel a little better when one of the most beautiful cities in the world puts on her Fancy Pants and gets all gussied up with twinkling lights and shiny tinsel and such.

A couple nights ago we went out for a walk all around downtown to check out the extent of the decorations.  It was pretty impressive. The whole town really glows when the sun goes down.  Since y'all can't be here to join in our reindeer games we've collected a sampling of some of the finer examples of festoonery that are on display.

Piazza Repubblica puts on an especially fine show with a huge tree, lots of food vendors, and even a carousel for the kiddies.

So one more Merry Christmas from the Pants clan and from Florence.

We're off to finish packing so next time ciao from Sicilia!